


Hush

by Lyekka



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abuse of Angelic Grace (Supernatural), Blow Jobs, First Time, Getting Together, M/M, NSFW, No Dialogue, PWP, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:29:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26880712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyekka/pseuds/Lyekka
Summary: They don't speak their first time.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 177





	Hush

Dean pushes through the motel door and stomps inside the dimly lit room. Peeling off his rain and mud-soaked jacket he tosses it in the general direction of the bed. It misses its target and falls to the grimy shag carpet - because that's the sort of shitty night he’s having. He doesn’t bother to turn around when he hears the door close behind him. It‘s not slammed shut, technically, but hard enough to make the window next to the door rattle - which means Cas’ anger didn’t diminish any more than Dean’s had during the twenty-minute car ride. 

Dean grunts out of annoyance and kicks off his muddy boots, letting one hit the wall and splattering brown muck over the faded yellow paint. He hears shuffling on the other side of the room and casts a quick glance over his shoulder to find the angel in the process of removing his own sopping coat and draping it over the partition between the door and kitchenette. 

Dean abruptly turns to face his friend, fists clenched at his sides, and glares silently as the angel removes his soiled shoes next and crouches down to carefully arrange them near his drying trenchcoat and suit jacket. Despite Cas’ seemingly calm demeanor, Dean can tell that he isn’t finished with the argument they had the entire way back to the motel. 

Not that Cas has any reason to be upset, in the hunter’s opinion. He's the dumbass who threw himself between Dean and the pointy end of an angel blade and nearly got himself killed. Again. It doesn’t matter that the demon holding said weapon was an incompetent oaf, and even with limited power Cas was still an angel and was able to easily deflect the blade and redirect it into the demon's gut. 

The point is Dean’s over Castiel’s martyr bullshit. 

When Cas finally decides to stop pretending to be distracted by his drenched clothing, he turns to face the hunter and waits expectantly for him to start yelling again. Dean _almost_ gives in. 

They stare at one another for several moments before Dean decides to close the distance between them. Cas isn’t remotely fazed when the hunter invades his space, nor when he latches onto the Cas’ shoulders and pushes him back against the wall. Dean’s always been aware that he could never manhandle the angel like he does unless Cas allowed it. Unbidden, his mind dredges up an image of his friend lying beaten and bloody on the bunker floor – a broken, desperate plea his only defense against Dean’s mark of Cain fueled rage because he refused to fight back. 

The hunter wants to shout at Cas to stop letting himself get hurt. To stop letting _Dean_ hurt him. But he already did plenty of yelling in the car and it didn't make a damn bit of difference. Words aren’t what he needs. 

Dean’s always preferred action to words anyway. 

Cas parts his lips, threatening to break the tense silence, and Dean leans forward to seal their mouths together before he can think better of it. He expects to be pushed away in anger or disgust, so when Castiel, _angel-of-the-fucking-Lord_ immediately responds by tilting his head slightly for a better angle and wasting no time before unceremoniously shoving his tongue in the hunter's mouth, Dean's brain short circuits and his body goes rigid. 

It’s not that he hasn’t imagined how this might go if he were ever stupid or drunk enough to cross the line with Cas; he just never allowed himself to believe that his friend would respond positively by kissing him back. 

Well, more like, aggressively make-out with him in a dirty motel room. 

Cas continues his exploration of Dean’s mouth for a brief moment before noticing the change, then pulls back as far as he can while being crowded against the wall. 

Dean composes himself in time to watch Cas’ face morph from confusion to disappointment and heartbreak in the span of a few seconds. _He thinks he's being rejected,_ Dean realizes, and he doesn’t hesitate to close the gap once more. Cas sighs as he melts into the kiss. 

When it starts to become heated, Dean takes the opportunity to grind their hips together. Neither are hard yet, but the action elicits a low growl from the angel as he thrusts forward to match Dean’s movements. The sound turns Dean on in ways he doesn’t care to analyze and he’s on his knees in an instant, reaching for Cas’ belt. He’s already unfastened the buckle when he risks glancing up at his friend. Cas is staring down at him in what anyone else would think was only mild curiosity, but Dean sees fire in his cerulean eyes and the way his kiss swollen lips part just slightly as Dean slides the zipper of his dress pants down. Dean’s arousal surges when Cas brings one hand up to rake blunt nails through the hunter’s spikes, while the other hooks around the waistband of his slacks and helps Dean pull them and his boxers down in one go. 

With Cas’ lower half exposed, Dean takes a moment to soak in the sight. His friend’s half-hard dick hangs long and smooth under a tuft of dark wiry hair and seems to swell further under the hunter’s gaze. Dean feels a nudge on the back of his head where Cas’ hand has settled and gives the impatient angel a cocky smirk before leaning forward to swipe his tongue teasingly over the head and along the length of his shaft. Cas lets out a small gasp at the sensation, so Dean repeats the action a couple of times before sucking the head between his lips. Cas begins to fully harden under his ministrations and Dean relishes the feel it. 

He grasps Cas’ hips while fervently bobbing his head back and forth, swirling his tongue around the girth. It isn’t long before Cas is gripping his hair tighter and pushing forward, demanding to thrust in deeper. Dean eases his hold, granting Cas control and slides his palms around to grope the globes of Cas’ ass. Cas moans obscenely when the tip of his cock hits the back of the hunter’s throat and Dean swallows around the head to evoke more of the pornographic sounds while the angel fucks his mouth. Soon, Cas’ thrusting turns erratic as his movements speed up and Dean prepares to feel the flood of release at any moment. 

He’s not expecting to find himself suddenly being yanked off with a plop and lifted up to his feet. He barely has time to catch his breath before Cas’ mouth is on his, hot tongue sweeping over Dean’s bottom lip to lap up a string of his own pre-come and drawing him into a filthy, wet kiss. 

At some point while Dean was going down on him, Cas had managed to get his dress shirt unbuttoned, which now hangs open exposing a glorious expanse of tanned skin. He only has a moment to enjoy the view before the angel is tugging at his shirt and Dean is reminded that he’s far too overdressed for the turn of events. Dean lets out a hiss when Cas presses firmly over the growing erection trapped in his jeans and they quickly undress between biting kisses. 

As the last article of clothing is removed and tossed haphazardly across the room, Dean finds their positions reversed and he’s being roughly pushed against the wall. He can’t hold back a needy groan when a warm palm envelops his cock and starts stroking him to full hardness. 

Cas moves from his mouth to lick down the angle of his jaw, nipping at and sucking over his pulse point before moving lower. Dean’s eyes close and he shivers as the other man’s stubble scraps over the newly bruised skin, heightening the pleasure. He thrusts into Cas’ fist, urging him to pump faster and the grip around him tightens – too dry and a _little_ rough – as he begins stroking in earnest. Dean’s eyes flutter open when he feels two fingers prod at his lips, asking for entrance. _Fuck yes._ He greedily sucks them in, using his tongue to work over the digits and coat them in saliva. 

Cas draws his fingers out slowly and brings his hand down to join the other on Dean’s cock. Slick fingers trail over the leaking slit, then lower to tease his balls. He doesn’t have time to be embarrassed by the shriek he lets out when those fingers move behind his sack to press into his perineum, because suddenly, they are at his hole and Dean’s legs spread wider on instinct. Cas seems pleased - and very aroused - by his response and brings his hips forward to rut eagerly against Dean’s thigh as he pushes a single digit past the tight ring of muscle. Dean’s cock pulses when he’s breached and Cas either senses that he’s getting close or he’s too distracted _boldly going_ _where no man has gone before_ because the hand around him immediately disappears and he whines in protest at the loss of friction. 

He’s barely adjusted to the first finger when he feels the second one sliding in. The burn is new and strange, but not unwelcome and he thrusts down experimentally, encouraging them to go deeper. He feels full already, split open on nothing but fingers and groans when Cas begins scissoring him open. Much too soon a third finger appears at his entrance and before Dean can bitch about the lack of lube required to proceed, he recognizes the familiar cool tingle of angelic grace spread inside him, making him feel loose and wet. 

He would normally object to his friend using his limited grace on something frivolous, but they have argued enough for one day (lifetime) and if it gets Cas inside him faster, who is he to complain about the misuse of heavenly power? He shoves down his initial annoyance and occupies his mouth with sucking a bruise into the skin just below Cas’ ear. 

The third finger slides in easily with the help of the grace prep, but the angle is awkward, preventing Cas from penetrating past his second knuckles. He pulls his fingers free with a frustrated grunt, leaving Dean feeling unexpectedly empty. Dean detaches from the angel, planning to drag him to the nearest bed when he’s suddenly being pushed back to the wall and Cas is grabbing him around the thighs and lifting him up like a rag doll. Dean yelps and throws his arms around Cas’ shoulders and wraps his legs tightly around his waist. 

Castiel, _the fucker_ , has the audacity to laugh at him. 

Dean decides to wipe the smile off the smug bastard’s face by grinding down to run the crease of his ass over Cas’ hard length. His satisfaction in the way the angel’s breath hitches at the contact only lasts a moment and then he’s the one keening when his friend leans down and seizes one of his nipples between his teeth. 

When Cas finally releases the swollen nub and looks up at him, he’s got a quirked eyebrow and a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. He’s never looked more _gorgeous_ and Dean’s heart thrums in his chest. 

Cas holds Dean’s weight with one arm and trails the other around the hunter’s backside until his fingers nudge at his opening again, one by one sinking in without resistance. Dean knows he’s been ready since Cas used his mojo, but he lets the angel take his time exploring and stretching until he finds the little bundle of nerves that sets Dean’s insides on fire. He moans as Cas presses into his prostate once more and his hips rock down to meet the deft fingers taking him apart. 

It’s too much and not enough and by the time Cas finally extracts his fingers and lines up his cock, Dean’s already a whimpering, incoherent mess. They both groan loudly when Cas pushes inside and bottoms out in one slow slide. He gives Dean just enough time to adjust to being filled then starts to languidly pump, rolling his hips as he pistons upward. Dean digs his nails into the angel’s back, leaving marks that will fade in seconds and rolls his hips, attempting to find some relief for the aching hardness trapped between them. 

Cas thrusts a little harder, pounding Dean into the wall while gripping the hunter’s ass and gliding him up and down his shaft. Dean tightens his hold around the angel’s waist, ankles locked together and pushes down to fuck himself. 

There’s a vibration on the wall behind Dean's head and a faint thumping echoes through the room, barely carrying over the sound of their combined moans and slapping skin. Inaudible curses accompany the banging coming from the angry occupant next door and without warning Dean’s being spun around and carried across the room, still impaled on Cas’ cock, and they fall together on top of the closest bed. 

The angel’s eyes flash blue for a second and the shouting from the other side of the wall stops abruptly. Dean doesn’t care enough to ask because the new position allows Cas to penetrate him deeper, letting Dean feel every inch of him when he resumes thrusting inside. Dean pulls Cas down until their bodies are flush and crashes their mouths together with a desperate force. Cas’ pace increases, his movements becoming more frantic as he propels his pelvis between Dean’s spread legs. When the angle changes and Cas’ dick pushes into his prostate, Dean reaches for his neglected cock only to have his hand wrenched away. Cas silences Dean’s protest with a kiss to his jaw and carries on pounding into him vigorously, gyrating his hips, and fucking with abandon before finally taking him in his hand. 

Cas strokes him from the base to the tip and Dean’s cock throbs as he pushes into the fist surrounding him. Heat pools in his gut, the dual sensation of having Cas in him and around him, making his release imminent. It only takes a few more jerks and then Dean’s back is arching off the mattress and his orgasm hits with a guttural moan, come shooting out to land on his chest and stomach. Cas’ motions slow as he works Dean through it, milking out the last few drops and letting them trickle down his fingers. 

He lets Dean’s spent dick go and brings his come soaked hand up to lick away the mess. Dean can only watch enthralled at the display and Cas fixes him with a heated gaze, his eyes dark with lust, when he leans down and captures Dean’s mouth. Cas’ shallow thrusts pick up and he drives in with more fervor, sliding his arms under Dean to encircle his shoulders and pull him closer as he plunges into him. His movements become erratic and his pace quickens, thrusting in three more times before he buries his cock deep and Dean feels his insides flood with his hot release. 

Cas manages to give a few more lazy thrusts into Dean’s oversensitive hole then collapses on top of the hunter. Dean holds him for a minute, but the full weight of the angel pressing down on him is making it difficult to breathe so he plants a reassuring kiss to Cas’ temple and rolls them over. He winces when the softening cock in his ass slips free and he feels come and whatever angelic lube his friend had conjured up leaking out. Cas doesn’t seem to mind the mess they’ve made and is content to lay sprawled out with half lidded eyes and a pleased smile on his face. Dean makes a note to teach the damn angel some bedroom etiquette, but for now, he’ll let the guy bask in postcoital bliss. 

He heads to the bathroom to wipe away the drying jizz, preferring a shower, but settling for a damp washcloth. When he’s done with himself, he grabs another cloth and goes to clean Cas up as well, because Dean Winchester is a goddamn gentleman. 

He climbs back on the bed into the waiting arms of his angel, who pulls him close, and stays there until he dozes off. 

They can talk tomorrow. 


End file.
